


Behind Her Golden Veil

by Ludovica



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Fingering, Hand Jobs, hair play, passive fingering, slightly schmoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludovica/pseuds/Ludovica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alatariel wants to celebrate their betrothal in private after the official party.</p>
<p>Celeborn, wary at first, is quite pleasantly surprised by his beautiful beloved's 'creativity'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Her Golden Veil

Celeborn let out a relieved sigh when he finally shut the door of his rooms behind them. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing his heartbeat to slow down. He had not reckoned that this announcement would be quite as nerve-wrecking as it had been. For a moment there he really had thought Felagund would deny him – he had clearly noticed how his hand had halted before putting Alatariel’s hand into Celeborn’s.

Aratariel hadn’t said anything about it, but he was still sure that Felagund was not quite happy about all of this. Of course, Alatariel – Nerwen, like he still called her – was his only sister, and as the head of their family in Middle Earth, sure he felt a desire to protect her… But if Celeborn had learned anything about her in these past years he had been allowed to spend with her, it was that she would not let herself be protected by anybody else than herself.

And Celeborn would never hurt her. He had told Felagund so as well – he would not hurt her, and he would not let anybody hurt her; he would always be there for her, even if she did not need his protection.

He opened his eyes again and looked down at the ring on his hand. Two delicate silver snakes with scales of pale green gems, winding around each other in loose coils, with their heads framing an iridescent, almond-shaped pearl. It had been forged by Alatariel’s father in Valinor, she had told him, and given to her when she had reached adulthood, so she could give it to the one she loved.

The one she loved… This thought, combined with the feeling of the ring around his finger, made warmth spread in Celeborn’s chest.

“Are you going to stand there for the rest of the night?”

He looked up at the amused sound of Alatariel’s voice, and he would have taken a step back in surprise if it wasn’t for the fact that he was already standing right at the door. Alatariel had used the few moments of his reverence to peel herself out of her white and blue robes, and now she sat on the edge of his bed with nothing but her golden hair veiling the splendor of her naked, pearly white skin.

Celeborn swallowed hard. “Aratariel, we should not… Your brothers are here, and…” He felt his head spin as he looked at her long, crossed legs and the hint of her hips he could see below the cover of her hair. They had dallied before, yes, yet it had never been more than gentle mouths and curious hands… He had never… seen her like this…

Oh in Ilúvatar’s mighty name, he felt dizzy just from looking at her slender calves and her naked arms.

Alatariel shrugged, and Celeborn felt heat pool in his loin as one of her round breasts slipped through the veil of golden tresses, small and firm and pink-pointed.

“My brothers are in the guest quarters. And even if they were, as long as we don’t join…” She grinned that fiendish grin of hers, the one that made Celeborn’s heartbeat speed up. “Just take your clothes off and come here.”

Celeborn’s head was screaming at him not to, that it was not right to lie naked with your betrothed before the wedding, that Felagund would cut the ring right off of his finger if he found out – but his hands were already far too preoccupied with opening the buttons of his robe to really listen to his head.

“If your brothers find out that I am touching your skin in such a way before I’m wearing your mother’s jewel”, he said, removing his robe, belt, boots and pants, before he opened the buttons on the collar of his tunic, “the whole of the House of Finwe will be after my head…”

Aratariel grinned as she pulled herself farther up on the bed, turning her shoulder towards him and folding her leg below her perfect, rounded buttocks as he knelt down on the bed as well. One of her long-fingered hands ran through his hair before she pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

“Well…” she whispered as she removed her lips from his by a hair’s breadth, and he could feel her grin against his skin and hear it in her voice. “If that is so, you obviously mustn’t touch me… Though of course that doesn’t mean that I can’t touch you, does it now?”

Her hand slid down over his chest and thigh, and he let out a shuddering breath.

“I’m not as versed in Noldorin customs as you are, Alatariel…” The name slid of his lips like sweet honey, the name he had given her, the name she would be known by as soon as her mother’s jewel laid upon his chest… He opened his eyes again, looking into the intense blue of hers, drowning…

He had to close his eyes again just to keep his wits about himself, and she mercilessly took advantage of his moment of abstraction to pull his tunic up with one hand while she cupped his crotch with the other. He opened his eyes wide, stuttering a moan as he felt strong fingers wrap around his flaccid length.

Aratariel grinned as she pulled his tunic off and then pushed him onto the bed, making him lie down, though he pushed himself up on his elbows to watch her as she spread his legs and laid down between them, kissing his lips gently again.

“I never really did this with a man…” she whispered with a little smile and traced her soft lips over his chin. “If I do anything wrong, tell me…”

Celeborn couldn’t imagine how she could do anything wrong at all, but he just nodded, too distracted by the feeling of her lips brushing over his throat, his larynx… He felt her soft blond hair stroke against his skin as she shifted slightly, moving backward so that she could kiss his chest.

He closed his eyes as her lips stroked over the skin of his chest down to his stomach. A little gasp slipped over his lips as her tongue dipped into his navel, and he could feel a grin curl her lips at that.

She sat up now, kneeling between his legs, her hands running over his hip, his thighs, her fingertips brushing the side of his buttocks and the juncture between his thigh and his rear, before she led them between his legs, let her fingers dance over the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs.

His breath was going fast and heavy now and the blood rushing to his center had hardened his shaft already, a lot faster than he was used to. He did not have any experience with women besides chaste kisses, and the dalliances he had shared with other men on long hunts were definitely not comparable to the shining smile on Aratariel’s face, the slight blush of her pale cheeks, and the softness of her long, exploring fingers… The pinkness of those deliciously soft-looking nipples peeking out through golden hair cascading over her body like a Valier’s robe…

Suddenly her soft, nimble fingers wrapped around his hardened member, and Celeborn rolled his eyes in delight, gasping as she slowly stroked down his length, “Oh, sweet Vána!”

Alatariel chuckled at that, and her thumb rubbed over his already slightly wet tip. “Not quite…” she whispered with a mischievous grin on her lips.

He wanted to reply something, but a sudden twist of her wrist, an ingenious little motion of her fingers, sent his head spinning and his hips bucking. Good Lord Manwe, he had always known that she was as nimble-fingered as any of her people, but this was definitely beyond his expectations.

“Do you like that?” she asked, and her voice was hardly more than a dark purr, vibrating through Celeborn’s skin and shaking him to the bones. He managed to grin a bit as her hand halted, the warmth of her palm and the titillation of her fingertips still on his hot flesh, but giving him a moment of respite.

“Do I look as if I didn’t like it?” he asked breathlessly, sitting up and putting a hand onto the back of her head. She grinned as he laid his forehead against hers, his hands gently running through her silk-like hair.

She rubbed her nose against his, then kissed him, gently, slowly, while her hand leisurely started to stroke over his cock again.

Celeborn moaned into the kiss, before he gently pulled away from her, still with his hands in her soft hair, running down over her back, shivering when she arched against him, the grip of her hand intensifying again slightly.

“You’re so incredible…” he whispered, still with his forehead against hers. “So wonderful and beautiful and perfect…” The motions of his hands grew frantic now, running over her arms and shoulders and back, and again digging into those lengths of golden silk, forgotten his caution and decorum. Her body shivered under his hands, and her lips sought his again, pressing against them with ardent hunger. 

“You’re talking too much…” she whispered against his lips with a fond smile, and he moaned again when her palm ran over his tip, his fluids already staining her flawless skin.

He rolled his eyes in pleasure and kissed her cheek, her chin, her lips.

“I just can’t believe the magnificence of my fate…” he whispered, hoarse now. “Being loved by a light so bright and glorious… I don’t know how I deserve you, Aratariel...” Again he moaned, bucking his hips into her renewed grip around his length as she rubbed her lips over his. He could feel her grin more than he could see it.

“Maybe you don’t deserve me?” she whispered, and Celeborn opened his eyes again, confused and slightly dumbfounded. But her grin just spread farther over her face and she licked her lips, her hand slowly moving over Celeborn’s hard shaft and making him sigh in bliss again.

“But…” she continued, and again the dark purr was in her voice, and his head felt light, dizzy… “Maybe I deserve you?”

He moaned again as she pulled away, and closed his eyes for a moment when she pushed him back into the pillows, her hand speeding up slightly.

“Though, whether I deserve you or not, I’d have taken you regardless… I always take what I want…”

He tried to laugh at that, but his laugh mixed with another moan and came out as a rather indiscernible sort of wheeze. “I am lucky then that I happen to want you too, am I not?” he grumbled, grinning now as well.

Her eyes sparkled at that. “Quite right…” 

Suddenly the touch around his cock changed – the warmth of her fingers vanished for a second, then it returned, but different, softer… Cooler…

He dropped his gaze down to her hand around his cock – and gasped in surprise. She was wrapping whole strands of her long hair around his cock, like a cocoon of gold.

“Wha-“ He didn’t have any chance to finish his question, though, before Aratariel kissed his lips again, swallowing his noises and pushing her tongue against his lips. He instantly opened his mouth and sucked her tongue between his lips for a second, before he pushed it back into her mouth, letting their tongues dance and intertwine in a slow, lazy rhythm while he kept moaning into the kiss. The feeling of her silky hair around his hard length was strange, foreign… Deviant in the best sort of ways.

Aratariel shuffled back slightly, pushing him into the pillows again. He looked down at her, at her hands wrapped around his hard flesh, covered in that peculiar golden cocoon she had spun around it.

She moved her fingers with the dexterity of a seamstress, keeping the shining tresses tight while she kept them in motion, like silky threads rubbing against his sensitive skin.

Celeborn moaned as arousal blurred his vision, yet he kept watching her, intent to drink in every deft motion of her fingers, every hungry glint in her eyes, every flash of candlelight illuminating the luster of her hair…

Heat started to pool in his loins again, radiating through his lower body while he started to slowly thrust into the softness that surrounded him. He saw her gather the first drops of his precum with her thumb, and he gasped when she spread it over her strands.

He wanted to ask her what she was doing, why she was doing this – but he didn’t want to interrupt her, he didn’t want to let this end too soon…

The look in her eyes was ravenous when she looked up at him again, and his breath caught in his chest. Her lips curled into a fiendish grin, and then her other hand was running over his sac, rubbing and stroking his stones. He bit his lip, groaning deep in his throat. Her tresses coiled over her shoulders and her naked body, framing her milky white face…

He saw how she formed a snare of another lock of her hair, twisting it tightly. He didn’t quite understand what she was doing there, and he wasn’t really in a state to contemplate it too much, far too preoccupied with staving off his orgasm, gasping and moaning as her hand sped up again.

The heat was coming to a boil, building between his legs, beneath his sac… He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensations washing through his body. Soon, soon he would spill over her hand, over her golden hair… Just a second…

Suddenly something was wrapped around him, arresting the heat inside of him, keeping it from spilling, even though it was far too ample by now, pressure and dull pain replacing tingling lust and making him whimper lowly.

When he looked down, he saw that she had formed a noose of the twisted lock and had pulled it tight around the base of his cock and sac.

She leaned back as far as she could with her hair still wrapped around his cock, looking at him as if he was a particularly nice piece of metalwork. He was shivering, both from frustrated lust and the new arousal her cerulean gaze was sending through his body.

She looked down to his hands now, and the way she sucked her lower lip just a little bit into her mouth made his head spin again.

With a little grin she leaned forward and breathed a little kiss onto his lips, low rumbling coming from her throat like a deep, wordless purr. With deft motions of her fingers, she twisted and braided her hair in such a way that it actually stayed around his cock, even as she let go of it.

“I don’t want you to exhaust yourself before I got my part out of this…” she whispered as her strong fingers wrapped around his left hand, her other hand on his shoulder. She motioned him forward far enough that he didn’t have to brace himself on his arms anymore, then she raised his hand to her lips.

Celeborn couldn’t hold back a little whine when he watched the first phalanx of his index finger vanish between her soft, pink lips. And when he felt her warm, wet tongue against his skin, he was fairly sure that he would have spilled on the spot were it not for the tight snare around his sac and cock.

She didn’t break eye contact for a second as she started to slowly suck the tip of his finger, steadily letting it slip farther into her mouth before she pulled away and repeated all this on his middle finger. Her lips moved against his flesh in the tiniest, most delicate suckling motions, and her tongue swirled around the tip of his finger as if it was doing a mating dance.

"What does that taste like?" he asked in a shuddering voice when his finger finally slipped out of the delicious warmth of her mouth. She looked up at him with her beautiful eyes, as blue as the sky just after sunset, and a little grin played around her lips as she licked the tip of his middle finger playfully.

"Like salt, and like cumin and venison and rosemary... And blueberries..." She gave his finger another lick, though this time her tongue ran over the whole of his finger, and she held it in both hands and leaned forward ever so slightly to run the tip of her tongue over his palm and down to his wrist, where she kissed the skin over his pulse point gently. His fingers touched her throat in this position, and he gently ran them over the sensitive skin there, a shuddering gasp escaping him when he saw the little shiver running over her shoulders and felt how she stretched her neck for him.

She didn't give him the chance to explore her much more than that, though. With another smile on her lips, one that nearly seemed insecure for some curious reason, she sat up again, on her knees. She spread Celeborn's legs a little more to be able to put her own knees farther apart, then she pulled his hand down to the bed, pushing it into the blanket palm-up. Celeborn leaned forward a little bit to accommodate this new position better and give her a little bit more leeway with whatever she was doing with his hand there.

She kissed his lips again, and he sighed against hers. "Just follow my lead..." she whispered, then her fingers were around his, pulling and prodding until his middle and index finger were pointing straight upwards, his thumb folded in so that it lay across his palm, with his remaining two fingers folded over it.

She held his hand still as she knelt over it, catching his lips in another kiss before she lowered herself.

He moaned when his fingers touched the wet, warm folds of her sex.

The one hand of her that wasn't holding his down ran over his naked shoulder, cupping the nape of his neck before she rubbed her nose against his, lips slightly parted, whether in concentration or anticipation he couldn't tell. He closed his eyes when she moved herself against him, mixing the wetness of her sex with the wetness of her tongue that still lingered on his skin.

"Stroke me..." she whispered as she breathed little kisses onto his cheeks. "Gently... Slowly..."

He obeyed readily, running the tips of his fingers over the softness between her thighs, a strange, foreign sort of wet warmth coating his fingers. He took note of every little shiver of her body, of every sigh and every pleased hum, while she kissed down his cheek and his throat.

Sadly, he wasn't really able to stroke the whole length of her sex in the position she had put him in, at least not with the tips of his fingers. Thus, after he had stroked over the softness of the lower part of her folds a few times, he crooked his fingers slightly and rubbed his upmost knuckles against the part of her quim just below the junction between the moist warmth of her sex and the silky skin of the cove beneath her belly.

Suddenly her body stiffened. He immediately crooked his fingers more, so he wouldn't touch her anymore, but her strong fingers were already grabbing them a second later, her face pressing against his neck. "Keep your fingers like that..." she whispered into his ear.

Then she bit his earlobe and moved against his crooked fingers at the same time.

He gasped lowly at the feeling of her teeth against his skin, and again at the low groan she let out as she rubbed herself against his knuckles, soon grinding herself against him, her back arched and her breasts pushing against his chest. His own breath was going harder by now as well, and he could not quite decide what to concentrate on - the dull pain his ignored member was causing him, or the delicious feeling of her juice running down his fingers as her motions got faster, harder.

Then, all of a sudden, she stopped. She laid her forehead against his shoulder, panting lowly. He could feel her thighs shudder against his own.

“Straighten them again...” she whispered after a few moments and rubbed her nose against the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Your fingers...” Her voice was dark with lust, and Celeborn's cock twitched in its silky bonds.

She waited until he had followed her order, then she ran her fingers over his thumb, his palm, his wrist.

“Just stay like this...”

She lowered her body again, though this time she moved forward a little bit farther than the last time.

When Celeborn's fingertips pushed against the hidden entrance between her folds, he moaned, lowly and deeply, causing Alatariel to chuckle slightly. “One would think a different part of your body than your fingers was about to breech me...” she whispered into his ear, hoarse, but still as brazen as ever.

Celeborn felt heat creep up his neck and into his cheeks at those words, but just when he wanted to reply something, she pressed down, and the dripping heat around his fingers combined with her divine moan, uttered right next to his ear, rendered every word he knew useless and meaningless.

A shiver ran through her whole body when she lowered herself on his fingers. She was leaning back now, not much, but enough to let him see the heaving of her chest, the movement of her small, round breasts, the clenching of her abdominal muscles, her reddened lips that opened around each heavy intake of breath as she sank down completely, engulfing his fingers in her tight heat. The parts of her sex farther front were pressing against his folded fingers, and she tilted her hip forward a bit and ground herself against his knuckles again for a moment, a blissful hum vibrating from her lips.

“Don't move...” she whispered, locking her eyes with his a last time before she closed them. She started to move on his hand, slowly at first, carefully trying to find the best angle, getting sure of her leverage. Her hands were on his thighs now, and the feeling of her weight on him when she pushed herself up with the help of her arms sent a hardly bearable prickling through his flesh right to his crotch.

By the Valars’ glory, he would have given his right arm to have his cock buried in her tightness right now instead of his fingers.

However, when she moaned again, her hips arching as she downright forcefully pushed down onto his fingers, he forgot all about his own lust in an instant.

She was radiating heat, her lips swollen and red, pale pink in her cheeks and chest, the muscles in her belly clenching with every motion. Her hair was cascading over her body like falls of liquid gold, her fingers grasping at his legs, grabbing him so hard that he could feel her nails push through his skin, and her moans, oh Lord Manwe, her moans… Her voice filled the cavernous bedchamber, echoed from the vaulted ceiling, shook the ground and vibrating through his body, reverberating in his bones, setting his blood aflame and melting his skin…

When she came undone on his fingers, arching her body and pushing down as far as she could, he lifted the three fingers that weren’t trapped inside of her spasming body and pushed them up against her wet sex. Her moans turned into a cry and her hips bucked against his fingers as she rode out her peak – and then the cry turned into panting, and her body went limp. His fingers were still inside of her, his hand still trapped between her wetness and the bed, and when he moved his fingers a little bit, her hips twitched and another shudder ran through her body.

She looked up at his face, the grin on her lips exhausted, but the sparkle in her eyes as bright as ever. Her eyes looked darker now, her pupils blown nearly to the edge of her iris, and there was something wolfish in the curl of her lips, in the heaving of her chest, in the slight slouching of her shoulders…

Finally she let go of his thighs, leaving ten crescent-shaped, reddish imprints on his light skin, and lifted her body off his fingers. Gently she grabbed his wrist and lifted it, kissing his pulse point again, then she pushed him back into the pillows.

“Now back to you…” she rumbled. The tip of her tongue dragged over her still reddened upper lip when she looked down at his cock. The cocoon had loosened a little bit, but the snare was still tight around his base.

She loosened the braids that held it with quick fingers, then she wrapped her right hand around him, bunching the soft lengths of her hair up against his painfully hard flesh.

With a low moan he closed his eyes. He was seconds away from his own climax. The heat that had cooled into pressure and pain was flaring up again, the pool of arousal in his loins was turning into a vortex. Her nimble fingers sent sparks of lust through his body, and soon he was thrusting into her hand again.

Just when he felt his climax approach, felt how his loins were at bursting point, he opened his eyes again and looked down at her.

She was using her right hand, the hand she wore his ring on, the ring he had slipped onto her finger just a few hours ago. He had no skill in the art of smithery himself whatsoever, and so he had commissioned the most renowned goldsmith of Doriath to craft it after Celeborn’s wishes.

And now his ring was on Alatariel’s hand, the hand that was bringing him such pleasure, golden leaves winding around entangled branches of silver, his ring, Alatariel’s ring, the sign of their betrothal, the proof of their promise, bearing testimony to their love…

His hips bucked up into her hand a last time, then he spilled with a loud, desperate moan, with his eyes still locked on her hand.

Only when Aratariel let go of his cock and started to carefully disentangle her locks from his slowly softening flesh did he notice that he had actually spilled into her hair. The dim firelight made his seed glisten like mother-of-pearl against the gold of her tresses.

He groaned and sat up, then he put his left hand onto the back of her head and pulled her in for another sweet kiss.

When he let go of her again, the smile on her face was not mischievous anymore, but affectionate, and deeply content. Again she rubbed her nose against his, and Celeborn gently ran his fingers through the silky lengths of her hair.

“I have no idea how I will endure a whole year without having all of you…” he whispered against her lips, and Alatariel’s smile widened.

“Don’t you worry…” she whispered back, rubbing her lips over his. “I will help you to ‘endure’ it…”


End file.
